


time sure is a fun thing (if it allows me to hug you one last time)

by Sigulinde



Series: Of names and stars [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Angst, Fallen Heroes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigulinde/pseuds/Sigulinde
Summary: Fallen heroes always revived dark memories for Ephraim.
Relationships: Eirika & Ephraim & Lyon (Fire Emblem), Eirika & Ephraim (Fire Emblem), Ephraim & Lyon (Fire Emblem)
Series: Of names and stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158419
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	time sure is a fun thing (if it allows me to hug you one last time)

“Do not move,” Forrest said, his eyes sparking, his gaze fixated on Ephraim’s injury. “This will burn a little, alright?”

Ephraim nodded, and when healing magic illuminated Forrest’s eyes and hands, he closed his eyes, letting his mind wander to ignore the burning ache on his abdomen. Around them there were more heroes, all of them talking down in murmurs or not saying anything at all.

Of course they wouldn’t want to talk, though. Ephraim’s heart skipped, knowing that it was that time of the year again.

Fallen heroes.

The pure name managed to send shivers through Ephraim’s spine, the stories, the atmosphere, everything. Once per year, they appeared again and again. All the heroes murmured about them, silent shadows that lurked around them as words and stories told in the hidden, and those with a relation with the ones who had felt into the void always carried around this sad expression of… impotency. A shared feeling of pity took over everyone’s moves, of everyone’s hearts.

He was sent to fight the first ones that had been seen, and the prince hadn’t forgotten the pure desperation reflected on Celica’s eyes, the one whom he fought, a battle that revived on his mind everything he went to sleep. She was possessed, of course, and she acted as if there were no turning back, Ephraim acting in nothing too far from an act of mercy, but he _couldn’t forget her voice._ The way she roared out in pain, begging for someone to kill her, calling prince Alm’s name, praying for Mila’s kindness.

And today, he had been chosen to fight against mad king Ashnard of Daein. It had been a hard fight, but worthy in the end: Hector, Líf and lady Leanne went with him, and they had managed to get victory together. And with that, Ashnard was now bound to a pact with Kiran.

A new fallen hero. A new reminder of memories that Ephraim sometimes would rather to just leave behind.

“… hraim? Ephra? You listening, pal?” Hector’s voice brought him back. Ephraim turned to see the marquees of Ostia, his electric blue eyes sparking worried. A long hack went from his left cheek to his jawline. “Are you okay?”

“Oh? Yeah, I’m sorry.” Ephraim smiled to Forrest, who finished his work before smiling back at him and leaning back, moving to help someone else and to give him and Hector space. He nodded, thanking him as Forrest went to heal Líf. “I was just… thinking.”

“I heard that Kiran is going to try to summon some heroes,” Hector murmured, sitting down by Ephraim’s side, resting his back on the wall of the nursery. Renais lord leaned to rest his check on Hector’s shoulder. “You’ve heard about the Ike thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Ephraim answered, nodding. “Ashnard said that him and Ike share a medallion of power or something, and Kiran said that Mist and Ike’s father have used that medallion before too. But then, why is Ashnard still… himself?”

“Good question, friend.” Hector sighed. “But Mist and Soren keep dreaming about this fallen-like Ike with the medallion on his hand, and it’s been some days since Ike was seeing for last time.” He shook his head. “Kiran will try to call him through a summon, to see what happened to him and if we can help somehow.”

“Oh.” It was Ephraim’s turn to sigh. A friend falling into the darkness? He could almost share Soren’s desperation. “I understand.”

A silence followed, and Ephraim could almost hear Hector’s thoughts in the position he was. He lifted his gaze towards him, realizing that he was already looking down towards Renais lord. “And you know who may answer the call, my friend?”

Ephraim inhaled, sharp. Hector’s gaze stayed fixated on him, trying to give him strength, and he knew why. Closing his eyes again, he buried his nails on his hand, missing the weight of Siegmund on his grip, fighting to keep himself concentrated. His breathing accelerated, his heart beat painful against his chest and he didn’t’ know how to stop it.

Hector reached out, surrounding his shoulders with one of his arms in a half-hug, and Ephraim allowed himself to be, resting his check on Hector’s shoulders, not even trying to dissimulate that he was feeling everything but strength and courage.

_Lyon…_

* * *

_Eirika was the one who saw him first. She was called to fight the dark heroes this time, and answered Kiran’s call from the dream world ruled by Freyja. She left with L’arachel by her side and a smile on her lips…_

_… And she came back crying._

_Ephraim hadn’t seen her like that since they were called to Askr. Eirika was_ desperate: _L’arachel held her on her horse, and Eirika cried on her shoulder as she hugged Rausten’s lady from behind. She held her as if she were to break down if L’arachel were to let go. The princess of light, silent as ever, murmured with her lips “ask Kiran” before going to her room with Eirika._

_And he did._

_“Four new heroes have been seen,” Kiran had told him, their amber gaze lost in the sky, Breidablik trembling on their hand. As it has always been by this time of the year. “Princess Julia, commander Ike, prince Corrin…”_

_“Corrin? Again?” Ephraim asked, arching his eyebrows. Kian shot a glance at him, and he felt a spark of guilt burning his throat. “I… sorry. It’s just… really?”_

_“Yes.” Kiran’s gaze now darkened even more. They were going to tell him something. Ephraim knew it. Something that he wasn’t going to like. “And… the last one…”_

_“Do I… know him?”_

_Ephraim’s heart skipped a beat, and the world stopped moving for one second, just one second in which Kiran opened their lips as they took out their hood to hold his gaze, a movement they always did when they were going to give bad news. He should have used that as an indirect, a signal that a god had decided to play with him and his life as the mere mortal he was. But he didn’t: he just stared at the summoner, with no thoughts in mind, and Ephraim heard Kiran, perfectly clear._

_“It’s Lyon. And he calls himself the Demon King.” Kiran’s amber eyes darkened. “I’m sorry, Ephraim.”_

_Everything went black and white._

* * *

The summoning altar had the tendency of being a warm place at this time of the day, noontime, but Ephraim could feel a chilling claw holding a grip on his heart, ready to take it out in one swing. Dark murmurs surrounded him like a dark dome that held sinister prophecies, and he saw around colorless faces that he knew but suddenly couldn’t name. Ephraim felt like a stranger on his own land.

He felt someone holding his hand, and warm fingers played with his own. When he turned around, Eirika’s free hand found its way towards his jawline to hold his face. Her soft gaze had an offer for him to break down, and he almost allowed himself to cry. But he didn’t. It wasn’t the time… yet.

“We’re together,” she said, and for a second Ephraim could only see the pure, beautiful blue of her crystalline eyes. She had been crying, but now, she managed to smile at him. “And we’re stronger now. I’m not letting you face this alone.”

“I… know.” His lips trembled, but Ephraim managed to draw a smile. He closed his eyes, and leaned in Eirika’s touch. “Thank you, sis.” When he opened his eyes, Eirika was still smiling, and as she leaned back to look at Kiran, she didn’t let go of Ephraim’s hand. He gave her hand a little squeeze to thank her once more, and turned towards the summoner too.

Kiran was already looking at them, waiting right by their side. And when Ephraim nodded, he could see the shadow of a soft smile dancing on their lips.

It was always satisfying to see the summoner do their work, especially from this close. They closed their eyes, staying still, and it was as if the world itself awaited in awe, seeing their movements, waiting for their voice to call heroes, villains, all kind of people from other worlds and places. Ephraim sometimes wondered what Kiran felt when it was their moment to do their thing, and he decided that he was going to ask them… someday.

But now, he was waiting too.

Kiran raised Breidablik on their hands, pointing for a moment at the endless sky.

“Answer my prayers, fallen hero!” they roared, pointing to the summoning altar. A beat, and Kiran fired towards the orb that laid on the altar.

Another beat, and smoke came from the altar. Ephraim breathed in, and when a light sparked from there, his instinct was to turn again and hug Eirika against his chest, desiring to protect her, still holding her hand.

Wind played with their hair as they waited, together, as time itself stopped for some seconds. Eirika hugged him back, and when Ephraim’s heart skipped a beat with a dark premonition, her grip grew stronger around his body.

A dark laugh resonated, and when Ephraim turned his face, he met a dark, scarlet, known gaze.

Ephraim wasn’t a devout believe, but in that moment, he thought that, if Naga or any other dragon god was real, he would have a not-so-nice conversation with them.

“I am the Demon King…,” said Lyon, looking at him before his gaze wandered towards Eirika, and then to end up in Kiran. “I know nothing of human fragility,” he added, looking up and down through the summoner’s body. “I am supreme…”

“Welcome, Demon King.” Kiran’s voice had a neutral tone of carefulness. “You have answered my call, and now you’re in the lands on Askr.”

“Oh?” Ly- the Demon King arched his eyebrows. Ephraim inhaled, deep, as a long-lost memory of Grado’s prince doing the same movement when he was still _him_ clouded his mind. “And for what reason would you call me here, summoner Kiran of Askr?”

“You have answered my voice, and so, you’re now under a contract.” Kiran always said things like this to the allies they summoned, but this was the first time Ephraim heard them so… distant. Cold. “We would like to use your help to battle our enemies and bring peace to the land.”

And Lyon laughed.

“It’s disappointing that a lowly creature like you thinks themselves with the power to control someone like me…, but if so, you wish from the bottom of your heart, I shall grant you your dark wish,” he answered, and then Lyon smiled. He looked up at Ephraim and Eirika once more. “Hello, king Ephraim, queen Eirika from Renais. This body’s heart beats a little faster now.”

“You…” Ephraim could feel a growl burning down his throat. Kiran had insisted that he shouldn’t have Siegmund with him, and now he cursed himself for obeying them. He needed it. He wanted it. “Want us to kill you again?”

Kiran shot at him a glance of warning, and Ephraim suddenly reminded that if they were to fight, they would still come back, even if one of them managed to be victorious over the other. It was useless, and yet Ephraim wanted to fight him again, to kill Ly- Fomortiis, to destroy him once more because he had already done it before and he wasn’t going to allow the Demon King to hurt someone again, where it be here in Askr or in his own la-

Eirika had different plans.

Ephraim didn’t realize when she let go of their hug, but one moment she was hugging him and the next she was in front of her brother, walking towards Lyon with a bravery born from a mix of naivety and courage.

“Eirika?!”

“Hm?” Lyon looked straight at her. Eirika used to be taller than Lyon, but now he was looking down at her with nothing more than hate as she walked towards him. “Looks like I was wrong to disregard the value of human emotions. The few sparks of Lyon’s soul inside this body are begging me to hug you, restoration queen. A shame for him to-“

Eirika reached the demon king, lifted her arms, and surround Lyon’s body in a hug.

Lyon’s prideful smile turned into a terrible frown of pain. No, Ephraim thought, it wasn’t pain: it was agony. It was as if Eirika’s hug, her love, was burning his skin. So he breathed in, and following her example, walked towards them. Kiran’s amber gaze was fixated on them, and something on their knowing eyes allowed the restoration lord to gather up courage.

“Keep your wretched hands off me, human!” Lyon growled, stirring against Eirika’s grip. She didn’t let go. “Or else you may as well lose them!”

“I’m sorry,” Eirika answered. Her face was buried in Lyon’s shoulder, but when Ephraim got closer, he could hear her murmur: “We should have been able to do more. Lyon, because I know you are there…, I’m sorry. We love you.”

Ephraim’s eyes burned with something similar to tears, as his breath got caught on this throat, and the feeling worsened when he saw that Lyon was just like him: his face changed to a sorrowful frown, and he stopped fighting against Eirika’s grip. He looked at Ephraim with a purple gaze, and the lord forgot the situation in which they were: he walked closer, and slowly, surrounded with his own arms both Lyon and Eirika.

“I’ve always wanted to have you here in Askr,” he added, closing his eyes, sharing their warmth. “With us. Welcome home, Lyon. Wherever you are.”

Wind played with their hairs as the world started moving once more, and Ephraim prayed for this second to be eternal just a little more.

“I… wanted to be you, Ephraim,” said a soft, known voice. “And… to be worthy of you, Eirika. I… wanted to be enough…”

“You are,” Eirika answered in a heartbeat. “You… were.”

“We… loved you as what you were, Lyon. You can be sure of that,” Ephraim followed, resting his cheek on Eirika’s hair. “And we love you now. I can promise.” Only silence came after his words. The only thing moving was Eirika’s hands passing through Lyon’s hair, and Ephraim’s own hand caressing both his sister’s and Lyon’s back.

… And then, that _damn laugh._

The atmosphere broke down in just one second, and the peaceful aura of love surrounding them vanished into a cold veil of darkness. “I’ve had my fun pretending to be human,” said the rough voice of the demon king. “ But the need for charades has passed. Let go, humans. Embrace the darkness instead…”

Ephraim’s instinct shot. He leaned back, and took Eirika with him, ready to protect her with his body. Lyon moved, and Ephraim was ready to take a blow from him, but it wasn’t necessary: Kiran moved to put themselves between the twins and Lyon, their back turned towards Renais’s lords, and Ephraim couldn’t see their face, but he had an idea of how imposing they looked right now.

“Thank you for accepting the contract so _kindly_ , demon king.” Kiran’s voice was nothing more than a growl. “Now, begone with you, Lyon. You know your limits here.”

“… Keep up, summoner,” he answered, and just with that, he turned and walked out of the summoning altar. He didn’t turn around to look at them, and Ephraim wondered if that was a good or a bad thing.

So the lord just kept his gaze on him until his silhouette vanished at the distance, waiting for a comeback that never happened. He felt his heart beating again, and suddenly his entire body hurt as if he had fought against thousands of enemies, even though there was no weapon on his hands. And as Ephraim turned around, not really sure of what to say to his sister, he realized that it wasn’t necessary: Eirika hugged him with all of her strength, and he realized how _much_ he needed a hug.

He hugged her back, holding her, knowing that he was going to fall into pieces if he were to let go, and turned to look at Kiran: their amber eyes were dark, almost black now, and a cape of pain blurred their gaze. Ephraim thought that they always had to endure scenes like this, and he felt his respect towards their tactician increasing.

“I’m sorry,” they said, shaking their head. “There’s not much we can do, or that I can say.”

“It’s not necessary,” Ephraim answered, his voice hoarse.

Following his instinct, the lord leaned to take Kiran from the neck of their cape, and pulled them towards him and Eirika. Ephraim pressed Kiran against his chest, just by Eirika’s side, and surrounded both of them with his arms, wishing to protect them. His sister, realizing what happened, turned her body a little to put her hands around Kiran too, her face buried in Ephraim’s neck.

He thought that Kiran was going to still take their space out of respect, but sooner than later he felt one of their hands on his back, and he could see their other hand rising towards Eirika’s hair to caress it in a familiar tainted with care.

Satisfied, Ephraim closed his eyes, and trying to ignore what had just happened, to pretend that familiar feelings weren’t making his eyes itch with tears, he focused his _everything_ on the warmth he felt on their hug.

The last thing he allowed himself to think was that he wished Lyon could be on their hug too.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on Twitter as @sigulinde!!


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